#rereading SoN is such a blast

[nashazie]

he’s so silly

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi I love rereading all your fics and prompts! Like, multiple times throughout the day. I have a schedule. Your works are my literal bed time stories (wow that sounded weird).

Anyways (before I ramble any worse). Any updates for Child support? I just love it so much and wondering if there's more

John throws himself to the side, barely avoiding a grab from a fifth-dimension demon throwing a fit after he rejects its request to marry his son. He rolls across the ground, powering up a spell, as he mentally curses his age.

Maybe Batman was right. He should work on his physical form a little more.

"Wait! Wait! I'm sorry! Can we talk about this-" Whatever the demon was going to say is lost after John's spell slams into its chest, throwing it back out of his dimension and sealing him from his Earth for fifty years. The spell is helpful, but fifty years doesn't mean much to demons, and it will wait decades to come back and bother them.

Thankfully, John will likely be long-dead before then. It's always been his solution for most of his problems. Pushing a problem to a later date where it can become someone else's problem.

But what about his son?

Danny, who was half of Time itself, would likely be around in fifty years. If there was one thing he didn't want, it was to leave Danny with all his messes. He'll have to learn a new banishing spell and find some instructors who could teach him an entirely new magic dueling technique.

It was the responsible thing to do. Ugh, fatherhood was making him an accountable bore.

John heaves himself off the floor, sweat pouring from his forehead, and grimaces. On the stove, the eggs he was cooking for Danny's breakfast are smoking, burnt into a dark black smudge. The House of Mystery's old wood groans, displeased with all the smoke, and a second later, the stove and counter vanish as the house creates a hole to drop them out of.

"Now that's just plain rude," John tells the house, dusting his knees. "It's not like I asked to be attacked first thing in the morning. What am I going to feed Danny now?"

The house's floor tiles shift in what John has come to learn was meant to be a shrug. The blasted thing has started copying Danny's teenage behavior, including that of his son's friends, and now seemed to enjoy rebelling against John whenever possible.

Thankfully, the house also seemed to really like Danny because one of the drawers opens, and a local Gotham breakfast dinner menu is flung at him. John catches the sheet with a sigh. He won't have to go too far when dropping Danny off at school.

"Morning, Dad," Danny greets, walking into the room wearing his Gotham Academy uniform. The dark night blue blazer, black tie, and dress trousers make his son look like the heir of the second most powerful being. It only took one glance to see that Danny came from nobility.

John knows he's a handsome bloke, but he had nothing on Clockwork's human form. That man was a temptation itself, and it looks like Danny has inherited his beauty.

John will never know how the brats in Danny's other schools could not see that. His son was perfect. John fights the urge to summon a camera. He always thought the fools always showing off the children's pictures were idiotic. Now that he's a father, he understands.

He smiles, "Morning, love. How about we go out to eat for breakfast?"

__________________________________________________________

They arrived at the dinner just as it was opening. John told Danny to order some black tea and went to the bathroom. He was only gone for a few minutes, but when he returned, he found his boy surrounded by a group of teenagers wearing the same uniform.

There was a splash of angry red on Danny's face as a girl gestured to him, obviously mocking him, and the rest of the teenagers laughed. Danny's hands were clenched in his lap, shoulders hunched, and head lowered as another teenager reached out and flickered his ear.

This one was wearing those ridiculous American leather jackets for some sport. He was also the biggest teenager there, a boy who thought himself too important for his own good.

John's jaw clenched.

Bullies.

Danny had bullies at Gotham Academy. Why can't his son just be left alone?!

John was just about to march across the room, ready and willing to fight a group of children, when Danny suddenly raised his head to yell in the face of the leather jacket git.

Alarmingly, the teenagers don't have the reaction that John expects. The large boy blushes, and the teenagers all seem to grow flustered.

No, John realizes with horror. No, they fancy him. The little rats bothering Danny are into him. Were all the other bullies just dumb kids who were terrible at flirting, too?

He is so stunned by the realization that he misses the way Danny attempts to push past the boy and somehow ends up tripping over his own two feet. He tries to catch himself on the table but the thing tilts over and their drinks fly.

Danny ends up half on the ground covered in drinks and looking bloody misaberle as the rest of the children snicker. John draws to his full height, deciding that it didn't matter what these kids felt for Danny.

His son thought they were bullying him because they made him feel terrible. So they were all going to feel the wrath of the one human who bullshits his way to being one of the mightiest spell casters in history.

"What the bloody hell are you urchins think you're doing!?" He yells. The kids all take one look at him before they scatter, rushing towards their posh cars outside.

"You alright, love?" He helps the boy to his feet, wiping some liquid with a napkin.

Danny looks small as he wipes away at his eyes. There weren't any tears; he was just taking the tea that had run down his face off. "I'm okay. Thanks, Dad."

"Do they bother you a lot?" He asks, anger growing in his chest. "We can go to your headmaster."

"No! Telling the principle will only make things worse!" Danny shouts, looking up in alarm. "Besides, they don't really bother me that much. Damian can usually scare them off. They should go for me, I can handle it; most other kids don't."

Fuck, where has he heard that phrase before?

It's alright if he hits me. I can handle it better than Mum.

John takes a breath through his nose, willing it to calm him down. This is another change that has come to be ever since he learned about Danny. Before, John would have gone off the handle, started a fight, yelled till he was red, drank, or slept through his issues, and damn the consequences.

He's got to think with a clearer head now. He owes Danny because of what his other father will do and because John wants to be the kind of father he never had.

The waitress rushes over, helping them get things set to right, and Danny apologizes for repeatedly knocking on the table. She waves away his worry, stating she saw the group and that, as someone who's worked near Gotham Acadamy for years, she knows what kind of students go there.

She also mentioned seeing what happened to the scholarship students over the years after nodding her head to Danny's pin. John hated that it was a requirement for Danny's uniform as a "show" of his accomplishments when all it did was single him out as a target.

While his son is distracted, John sends a quick text message to Bruce, informing him of the bullying Danny is going through.

Bruce responds with a single message: "It shall be handled." for once, he doesn't roll his eyes at the theatrics. A small thump on the window makes him glance up from his phone screen.

Pressed up against the glass is a blond teenage boy with wide eyes, breathing heavily and looking like a child staring at a feast of their favorite foods. John makes a face as the teenager's palms' and nose lean more into the glass, disorientating his image, but nothing could top the manic grin on his face.

John follows the boy's eyesight to where they practically devour his son, who is busy looking at the pasty bar. The waitress told him to pick anything he liked in the house to try and cheer him up from his bully.

Danny takes his sweets very seriously and studies his options with hyper-focused determination. He bends at his waist to look at the far-back brownies, and the teenager in the window lets out a cat-like growl of approval.

Alarmed, John steps in front of Danny, blocking him and his bum from view. The teenager, wearing the same uniform as Danny, and John was pretty sure he's seen this kid at Gotham High School when they had been touring the place before deciding to take Burce's offer, locks eyes with him.

John doesn't have to see into the stranger's scowl to confirm what he already knows.

That was not a human in control of the body. A demon likely took the unfortunate human for a joy ride. John raises his hand, spell crackling at his fingertips, and the scowl turns darker as the demon wearing the stolen face seers.

Just as he is about to fire off a spell, Danny's voice cuts through the tension, stepping around John with a happy "Bernard!"

His son walks up to the window before freezing and then looks back at John with the same bone-chilling expression of anger that he has only ever seen on one other being. That one being who could make the very fabrics of the universe fall apart despite not shouting or rampaging.

Danny inherited Clockwork's anger, it seemed.

"That thing is overshadowing my friend Bernard Dowd." Danny's voice is low and echoing. Somewhere behind him, John can hear the waitress gasp for air as the room's pressure increases, to Danny's displeasure. "I'm going to kill it."

John's knees shake as he fights to stay upright. "Alright. Make sure you finish murdering it before your second class. You have a chemistry test today."

Danny nods, walks outside, and grabs Bernard's arm to drag him into a dark alley. The dumb thing looked pleased, spraying something into its mouth. I thought Danny was going to snog it.

Fool.

As soon as Danny left, the pressure disappeared from the dinner, every human inside sighing relief once they could breathe better.

"What in the world was that!?" The waitress demands, her voice strained with fear.

John turns to her with a shrug. "Puberty."

Outside, a loud honk is heard as a certain teenager in a leather jacket slams his head against his steering wheel with a wail. His friends are quick to comfort him to the best of their abilities. They likely saw Danny drag the possessed human into the alleyway.

Good.

"Do you have any alcoholic drinks?" He asks the horror-stricken woman. "I need something strong."

"It's seven in the morning."

"Ah, a coffee then. Black. Strong. Anything to help me raise my boy and get through the day."

There is a long pause before she responds. "Of course, and it's on the house. Not easy being a single parent to....whatever that was."

At least she has a heart.

[lotusarchon]

been rereading svsss soooo combining my current hyperfixations here

everytime there's a reader isekai au it's always them loving the universe they've transmigrated into but what about a reader who's a borderline HATER (me) of black myth wukong or lego monkie kid

(tdlr: this does not represent how i feel about either video game and show, because i like them both, the fandoms are just...eh...but i do think it'll be funny lmfao)

i'm talking a full time hater. they've read jttw and fssy and of COURSE they love those books, they're a huge myth nerd.

then they take one fucking look at the adaptions inspired by them and immediately go "oh fuck no"

a reader who DESPISES lmk's portrayal of sun wukong because what the fuck do you mean he's not a buddhist after his journey? what do you mean he didn't kick the jade emperor's ass and fucking isn't badass and cool? what the fuck do you mean the six eared macaque is his 'best friend' and people SHIP them?? what do you mean no one likes tripitaka and apparently the three other pilgrims were reincarnated when that isn't factually correct??

a reader who positively despises the plot line in lmk because WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN NEZHA'S DEMOTED TO SOME CANON FODDER WHEN HE SHOULD BE BADASS?? or...or AZURE LION BEATING THE JADE EMPEROR?? WHO THE FUCK EVEN IS THE BROTHERHOOD EWWW!? what do you mean this dragon girl has the samadhi fire ew ew ewww what is this plot...

reader who fights with fans because of their (barf) mindset and also shut?? up?? about nezha being a 12 year old?? gross ass??

reader who watches the show religiously but only to find every flaw in it and when people argue about the show being a children's only audience they fight back with "idgaf if it's for kids they should teach it properly dumb fucking cunts gtfo my dms before i doxx you"

same thing with black myth wukong tbh. reader who hates black myth wukong because...no...no, sun wukong most certainly wouldn't do that. graphics are fine whatever but but this is?? inaccurate??

reader who's tearing into fanboys too because shut the fuck up about this character pingping bring sexy and also why the fuck does she exist?? why is red son not actually pif's son?? why is there some fucking random monkey tryna collect those whatchamacallit (relics) NO THIS IS WRONG

reader who's gagging cause...sun wukong wasn't in love with nobody and why is there a brief fucking romance plotline with the monkey 2.0 wasn't this a fighting game ewew get it AWAAAAY

reader who hates and then...uh oh. too much dumplings is making them choke....guys...guys i think they're dying??

reader who wakes up in bmw or lmk as some... rabbit spirit? (so weird) but absolutely SEETHING at being here because oh fuck this bitch ass god awful plot suck my cock we are NOT DOING THIS

reader deciding that avoiding the obnoxious characters would definitely be better for their sanity....only for some blasted loud ass obnoxious stupid cunt fucking google translated voice pings in their head... telling them if they don't participate in the plot they'll be executed

reader thinking they'd rather die but then the system goes "oh, you thought we were joking?" and gives them the worst experience ever that by the end of it they have to swallow their pride and participate in the plot....☹️ Unfortunately

reader who accidentally wifes up the characters and has to deal with everyone forgetting their roles...and the system threatening them about the plot too like bro how is this my fault these bitches are dumb? fuck you mean you're gonna kill me ag- no, no, you're right uh i'll fix it i'll fix it.

Anyways I'm gonna write a fanfic with an OC like this cause it's too funny to pass up and also I'm 100% gonna die with my wipes hahahaha fuck..

[lscpu]

this is somehow a 3.4k word drabble that was supposed to be a 'john and dean started fucking some time after sam left because john couldn't figure out how to save dean from the bottle send post.' i just got on my adhd meds that are toxic af and i'm feeling VERY weird and wearing earplugs bc there's a siren blasting outside and i ain't rereading or editing this good luck.

sam is gone and john's dealing with it and dean drinks himself half to death because he never learned to cope on his own. he always had dad + sam to look after and suddenly dad is distancing himself and reevaluating everything after his youngest ditched the family and there's a hole in dean's chest and head that thoughts of keeping sammy safe used to occupy and now it's just a gnawing maw of despair he fills with liquor.

he's confused and hurting and sleeps around like never before. john, once he comes to and realizes his oldest son isn't there, has to fish him out of dives on more than one occasion. they start hunting back to back. dean tries going solo (like he's been for about two years now) and john puts a hard stop to that. they hunt together.

motel clerks don't even ask, they just assume and give them the keys to a single king suite to avoid awkward question, incidentally making the whole thing even more awkward when the first time it happens john comes back to swap rooms. it happens again. dean awkwardly jokes, making a point to address john as dad in conversation. once it starts it just never stops, and dean backslides to heavy drinking again.

john drinks with him a few times, then he stops. he's learning to deal and cope with things in absence of sam and with dean's withdrawn emotional support. probably starts feeling guilty as dean's been there for him since he was a 5 year old child and john lets him hit these newer and newer lows.

john tries to put a stop to it. he tries to keep him in the place they call home for that day--week--month. he tries drinking with him to keep an eye. goes to the bar with him. dislocates the jaw of some piece of shit he overheard harassing dean for being cocksuckingly pretty.

dean's a mess. suddenly it hits him his dad isn't relying on him for emotional support and is sticking by his side more like an equal than the man in charge. instead of feeling relieved/elevated/happy/accepted, it fucks dean up more. he's been groomed and parentified into the role of a caretaker, and he messed it up, and now dad's taking it away from him.

the feelings are getting confused, and the haze of mind-altering substancing isn't helping. who is this man? is that his dad? he'd still occasionally bark at dean and then say sorry all of a sudden, does he think dean's gonna leave him too?

the family dynamic switches too fast for dean to keep track. they're father and son they're commanding officer and his soldier they're hunter and hunter they're hunting partners they're drinking buddies are they friends? holy shit is this what having a friend is like? they're family they got mistaken for a couple yet again they're playing a law enforcement officer and subordinate they're investigating a haunting in an underground queer space they get mistaken for a couple the clerk at the motel gives them a disgusting look when dean pointedly calls dad 'dad' john drags dean off a girl in a bar because he got an urgent SOS message dean is feeling like he wants to fuck again to feel good to make someone feel good to make himself feel alive they run into a pair of hunters and dean sees them kissing in the campfire light at night he's so lonely he doesn't wanna touch anyone he wants someone to comfort him he gets drunk dad holds him dad can't leave him please dad touch him drunk dean kisses him he cries he's so confused he's scared he hits the bottom of the bottle again john leaves john comes back the map on the front seat of the car shows he was visiting palo alto without dean he's a disappointment of a son despite being the one that stayed he's inconsolable dad won't hug him anymore he won't even touch him won't look at him please can you just hold me? it's unfair i love you i loved him and he left me and you're gonna leave me because i messed up i'm a mess and you hate me i know you do you can't lie to me.

john will have his oldest son his soldier falling apart at the seams and the only thing that comes back to mind is he was a bit younger than dean and more of a fool and just as lonely shellshocked and scared and in constant fight or flight mode in vietnam and the only thing that helped was a quick tumble with a comrade in the combat zone. there were no barracks there were no trenches it was just heat and cloying soupy air you wear and mud and fear and death everywhere but when you have your brother in arms' hand down your pants it all disappears for a minute.

what's the worst that can happen? dean is splitting away from him and his own self already; what's the worst thing that can happen if john fucks him into the bed? the first time this thought pops in john's mind he gets a hot spell, a full-body flush then turns cold with dread again. he doesn't want to think about it but he always knew dean was heart-stoppingly pretty; he knew it, men with a certain inclination to destroying pretty things knew it, bars trucks gas stations big cities motels, john has always needed to be vigilant, painfully aware somewhere deep in his head it's not just monsters dean should be wary of. sam was growing out of the risk of potential human predator and dean has always been growing into it.

other men can think it and john can't? monsters can think it and john can't? he can think it. what's the worst that's gonna happen? if dean seems to want his reassurance so much but won't accept it in any other form john can translate it into something dean understands better. always a ladies man always down for pleasure and release with no strings attached.

dean's still deep in thought carrying a single key up to the motel door that they both know is gonna be a single king. he's not expecting it when john shoves him into the door once it closes behind them, full body weight against dean, holding him by the lapels of his own leather jacket dean's been borrowing since he was still in school.

the spur of confidence john felt dies. goes out like a candle on a terrace at a strong gust of wind, but john still has his son against the door. he's taller. he leans down, kisses dean's temple. it's scratchy, sides of his hair freshly trimmed, feels tingly and weirdly good against john's lips, so he does it again, kisses his temple.

dean'd call him, confused, dad? and john's go center of his face, kiss him on the forehead, move down to place a quick peck at his nose, under his eye, his cheek. dean should be getting this by now, and oh yeah, he does, turns his face up, starts shaking, meets his lips in a clumsy kiss.

john would kiss him on the neck when he'd feel the tension in dean's body come to a peak. he's just stone frozen; so tense it's a wonder he isn't snapping in half. john can go back to the clerk and demand another room, leave dean to this one, get his own space. he sleeps on the floor instead, painfully aware dean doesn't get a wink despite the comfort of the bed in their suite.

dean sleeps through the day when john's driving. john keeps watching him, looking for his family's traits in that face, or mary's, mary's old man, mary's mom they called dean after. who calls their son after his grandmother? john didn't doubt mary's choice when she made it but now he's thinking their whole family is cursed and mary was cursing dean to a fate like this when she named him. the face that makes men want to push dean down to his knees and have their way with him.

john's not a monster, but does acknowledging what he sees in dean make him one? or does that make him someone who doesn't shy away from the truth? is he making things up? is dean just your average handsome looking guy? why is john thinking of him as the victim in his head? he taught dean better than that. he taught him to be the caretaker in the family. mary picked dean's name and john picked his place — all of this is on john.

he gets absolutely wasted, shoves dean away when dean shows up to take him back to their room from the bar. they fight, john splits dean's lip against his teeth. he never hit his kids outside melee training and that doesn't count as hitting; this doesn't count, either, but he feels so fucking guilty for it, pushes dean against the wall to keep him in place, grabs his face and turns it this way and that under the lamplight above to assess the damage. teeth in place, just a split lip.

a tip of dean's tongue darts out to clean up the blood. there's more on his chin and john wipes it with his thumb, looking over dean's face. he's wide-eyed and his eyes are pale green and john can't get a read on his son at all.

what do you want from me? what do you want me to do? just tell me, just fuckin' tell me 'cause i can't keep guessing.

dean won't say a word but there's fear in his eyes; he's afraid to answer that question.

john'd say, i'm your dad. i wasn't much of one before but i am, now

'is this because you're afraid to lose me too?'

that's the only sincere thing dean could ask. and yes, yes it is, they lost sammy but he's still family and dean's the only family john has that's sticking by him. what a mess of a man, what a mess of things john's made.

'do you even like me?'

how can dean ask that? is there even a question? but the fear of the truth in both his and dean's head is clear on his son's face -- of course he doubts it. of course he doubts his place. john raised him as the perfect hunter, so does john like dean the hunter? does he even like him as a person?

john realizes he's still holding dean's jaw in his fingers, his hand so big against dean's delicate face the mere size difference is obscene. he lets go, reluctantly, watching as the white bloodless marks from his fingerprints fill up with red. 'that's gonna bruise.'

dean's eyes dart down. 'i like that.'

words that go straight to john's dick. he lets out the most pathetic, suffered sound he's heard in is entire life. 'i'm not gonna do it, dean. i can't do it.'

dean's brows do this pathetic routine of a sad puppy face.

'i love you too much to do that. i can't do that, you can't ask me to. it's--it's not like that. we're not like that.'

but he sees it. he sees it in that pair of queer hunters they met months ago; in that gay bar dean insisted on going in alone for the job but he was so messed up in the head john didn't let him; he sees it. he was never much of a father, but he can still be here for dean, he can, it won't even be hard, it's right there, the feeling's right there, the image of bending dean over and slicking him up and thrusting into him is right here on his mind. dean would make the prettiest noises, he'd feel so fucking good, he'd be perfect, god he'd be just perfect around a cock, under john's weight, on top of him, it's like he was born for it, made by heaven to be desired n coveted and messed in the head just right to want it too.

john hits the wall behind dean, hits it right by his head, making dean jerk and turn away, eyes squeezed in anticipation of a punch.

'i won't do it, dean. i can't do it. jesus, you can't even say it and you want me to do it?'

'so if i'll say you'll--' dean cuts himself off, breath stuttering, still not even looking at john. 'i just gotta say it?' sounds like some stupid say the word and it's yours bullshit tv cults are peddling. john runs a hand down his face, like trying to wipe off the apprehension.

'i don't know, dean, i don't know if i can give it if i don't what is it you want from me.'

the staff door from the bar slams open, rusty hinges an offensive sound in the dead of night, a bartender that's been slinging john drinks this whole night takes two huge garbage bags and throws them into the metal bin on their left. he briefly looks and dean and john and shakes his head, going, 'dude,' incredulous, before disappearing back inside.

john looks back at dean, preparing to let go, hoping the spell is broken.

dean looks at him like the spell's taken even stronger, another outsider taking them the wrong way. like wishful thinking spoken into the cosmos so it comes true. more of that tv nutjobs shit.

dean's face is set, features hard, eyes so bright and wet and watching. 'i want.' he breathes, licking his lips. inhale, exhale, a second, two, five, half a minute. it's stupidly long that they stay in silence, john's back to holding dean by his own jacket, too big on dean's shoulders. 'i wanna make you feel good.' tension in dean's body, like he's bracing for impact. 'i want me to feel good. i wanna feel good together.'

john's nodding. john's nodding before dean can even finish the sentence. he's nodding because he gets that, because it doesn't sound like the worst sin in existence if it's about feeling good. you love someone and you want them to feel good. he can make dean feel good. he can feel good with dean around him, with john's dick buried deep inside, he knows it'll feel good.

he's not even that drunk when they get back to the motel. it still takes a little time, john's not twenty like dean and the whiskey isn't the best cure for this, but he hasn't been this hard in a decade when things get going. dean swallows him down his throat like a pro; makes john so fucking mad, makes him so mad he shoves deeper, grabs dean by his hair in a way he knows will hurt a bit. won't hurt him much, but to make a point, because where the fuck did his ladies man son learn to take cock so well?

in a week's time dean's completely blocked sammy out of his mind. if sam knew what dad and him were doing, he'd probably kill them both. jesus, he'd kill them both and maybe then take himself out. sammy always wanted the normal so if he ever knew about the dean and john family normal, he'd wanna end it all.

it's weird, knowing what keeps dean tethered, what gives his mind a sharp focus, what keeps his hand from straying towards a drink is the exact same thing that would mess sam up fierce.

dean's ass hurts from taking it up so often. he buys a bunch of gay magazines and spills them on the front seat as they're leaving town, and john looks at him with a raised brow and that blank expression that's not exactly positive thinking but not that deep that it'll unsettle dean. he can read it easy -- dad's thinking, what the actual fuck are you doing now, so dean replies, 'sorry, did you know my ass hurts? thought i'd read up on this shit from the professionals.'

john doesn't say a word after that. dean finds a good article that actually answers most of his questions and thinks, should he shove this one magazine in dad's lap, or should he take care of things himself? go back to bearing responsibility or sharing it?

dean can't make up his mind. it's way too weird, giving dad a manual on how to fuck him properly. john already fucks him properly -- dean sees fucking stars with a dick rearranging his guts.

he leaves that magazine on the bedside table when going out scouting for a job and when he comes back, he thinks it's angled a bit different, not how he left it. makes a weird feeling spread in his stomach. it's a porn mag -- maybe dad just looked at the pics -- at the pics of other men -- twinks more delicate than dean, what the fuck -- wait, what the fuck, are you fucking jealous -- cut it out, it's your dad -- yeah, it's not like dad would swap you for some ass off the street, that kinda bond has to run deeper than that, it's not like there's an endless supply of sons as there is of twinks--

that last car of dean's train of thought makes him puke. he heaves violently, not even making it to the bathroom, folded in two on the floor hugging a paper trash can and expecting, any minute now, to see blood there after the next bout of spasms.

john finds him on the floor like that, panicked immediately -- are you hurt, are you poisoned, did you see what did it -- did you have too much -- and dean cries to him. he cries about sammy, and never letting anyone touch sammy, and he can see it in john's face that he's breaking his heart and he tries to explain he isn't thinking the worst of john because he knows better than that, but if any of them ever touch sammy's he's gonna take both himself and john out. he's gonna do it, he'll do it, don't ever fucking doubt that, anyone touches sam, they're gonna pay.

it's an intense two and a half years together, and dean's face would wash into a stranger, into mary, into his son, into a lover, a stranger john fell for, his son he defiled. it's insanity split for two--dean's just as set on catching the yellow-eyed demon, and letting dean go solo feels like missing not a limb but a whole side is gone with in an explosion with fragmentation digging into his skin.

when sam's room burns down with his girlfriend gone in the fire, john pulls up in the impala with dean in the passenger seat, and they stay there awhile, silently thinking which one has to face sam. john's too worried about his son to remember the relationship, and dean is so sickly puppy-loving missing sam that the grief of sam seeing them and telling right away -- of the guilt because sam called it, he called dean and john for what they are years ago -- the fear he's gonna turn them down, turn dean down, that he missed a chance at ever mending the relationship with his baby brother -- it's all so strong it makes him violently ill in the car. he has to stumble out, attracting attention from sam's friends and then sam himself.

sam sees dad and runs to hug him, crying, babbling about jess on the ceiling and sorry he doubted you, and dean thinks he's gonna pass out there. dean thinks he's gonna pass out. some of sam's friends approach him to physically support him, a stranger's hand on dean's shoulder, and all dean can see is sam untangling himself from dad's hug and looking at dean like he sprouted a second head. dean, what's wrong?

jesus, would you step away from him -- you shouldn't -- always been such a smart kid, sam'll know the second he touches them -- he's already touched dad and he looks so concerned, as if it isn't his girlfriend that just burned up -- god, dean is SO SELFISH, piece of shit, piece of shit, this isn't about you, get it together --

he comes to with sam hugging him, starts talking nonsense, he's sorry, dean's so sorry, and sam has no idea it's not his college girlfriend dean's apologizing for.

[estellardreams]

The Brotherhood

The New Past AU by @lululocomo

The ask on the brotherhood showing up with MK helping gave me a bit of material to work with on how it would go, however... I came across some art on an idea and now Imma see where this goes

Hope you enjoy :)

Mk was not expecting the strike to be so... Brutal. Granted, his memory was a touch fuzzy on journey to the west. He hadn't reread it in a while, especially the passage on the pilgrims sealing up the brotherhood.

But now, he was here... Approaching their kingdom, riding behind Wukong and Macaque on the nimbus back to Tripitaka and everyone else.

"Alright, we're here." Wukong leapt off the cloud, helping Macaque and MK down with him.

"Thank you. Though I must ask, why did you bring your son along?" Tripitaka asked.

"I wanted to come with! I... I have something I need to do here, too." MK quickly piped up.

"Ah. Very well, then."

"I feel like we should revise our plan so we don't accidentally get ambushed." Ao Lie spoke up.

"Nonsense! It's totally fine!" Wukong said proudly.

"No, I agree with him. We should rethink this because your plan of pretending we're bait is..." Macaque trailed off.

"Really bad." MK winced.

Wukong groaned. "Then what do all of you suggest? I'm trying to find a way to get us inside without being detected as threats!"

MK's ears perked up, his gaze drifting up to the kingdom. His eyes narrowed, seeing more than three figures roaming the streets.

"Do you guys know it's not just the brotherhood there?" he asked.

"Wait, really?" Wukong snapped to look at him.

Mk pointed to the multiple figures gathering at the edge.

But three seemed to tower over the smaller ones.

"Brother! So glad of you to join us! Have you finally come to your senses?" Azure declared.

"What's the plan?!" Baije hissed.

"Don't worry, I got this!" Wukong piped up.

"Of course I have! After all, I have captured my fake friends for all of you!" he called back.

"WHAT?!" nearly everyone exclaimed.

"Are we seriously going with this plan?!" Macaque questioned.

Peng flew down to them, circling around them. "Then why are they not in chains? Why do you still have their controlling crown on?"

... Shoot he didn't think of that.

"That's just a glamour, okay?"

"Then drop it."

Wukong paused. He knew that he was basically screwed in trying to remove his entire glamour, especially since it was noticeable how the swirls appeared for concealing over dissipating.

"Excuse me?" Tripitaka spoke up.

"We do not mean your kingdom any harm. Please, come with us. I'm sure we can talk through this in a civilized manner-"

"Oh, the little monk wants to be good guy now?" Peng snarked.

Mk scowled, trying to hide his expression.

"And this boy... You brought a child with you? How idiotic can you be?" he hovered right up to MK's face.

"Not idiotic enough to miss." he summoned a staff of golden shadows before slamming the blunt end right in front of Peng's face.

He fell back a little, brushing over his beak.

"You little brat!" he snarled, flying back up to the kingdom.

Mk breathed, keeping a tight grip on his staff.

Some of the crowd began to vanish, but a good chunk of them remained.

"So. All of you are trying to deceive us?" Azure began.

"... You're no better than those celestials and their empty promises." a huge blast of a swing came flying at them.

"GET OUT OF THE WAY!" Macaque yelled, using his shadows to force everyone out of the way of the strike.

"Oh, it's on! Let's finish this!" Wukong summoned his staff, charging at the kingdom.

"DAD! WAIT!" MK ran after him.

"KID!" Macaque chased after the two of them.

"All of you, go. I'll stay behind in case any of you need support." Tripitaka said.

"No, I'll keep you safe Master." Ao Lie shifted his form back into a dragon, scooping their group up before flying to the top.

The moment MK arrived, he was bodyslammed into by Yellowtusk. He skidded back, planting his staff into the ground.

The hammer came crashing down over him, causing him to leap out of the way.

Azure knocked Wukong back, making him collide into MK. Macaque quickly caught the two using his shadow portal, repositioning them back up as if nothing happened.

"Brother. They've brainwashed you, haven't they?" Azure started.

"No, they didn't."

"They're using you! Turning you against us! What happened to rising up against their injustice?"

A dragon crashed directly into the three, sending them flying. The other demons on standby froze, weapons and armor nearly ready.

Ao Lie transformed back to normal, catching Tripitaka, Wujing, and Baije before they all fell.

"Ah! Thank you, Ao Lie." Tripitaka softly thanked.

"How many people even are there?!" Baije yelped, noticing the small army of demons preparing their weapons.

Mk frowned, contemplating their options.

"I have an idea since we're all here. Tripitaka, I think you should stay somewhere out of reach for defense and healing. Ao Lie, Zhu Bajie, and Sha Wujing, how about you help us deal with that army over there?"

"But what about you three?" Wujing asked.

"We can take on Azure and the others. Don't worry!" Wukong said.

"... I can work with that." Baije held onto his enchanted rake. Wujing slipped his crescent staff off his back, positioning it.

Ao Lie flew Tripitaka up to a roof behind a building, mostly out of sight.

"Stay there, please." he whispered. Tang nodded, holding his Khakkhara tightly.

The Brotherhood slammed right back down into the center, Azure slamming his blade down as streams of energy strikes flew past the monkeys.

They quickly dodged, leaping out of the way. Yellowtusk struck his hammer into Macaque, sending him flying.

"BABA!" MK screamed.

"I'll go after him!" Wukong said.

"No you WON'T!" Peng forcibly pinned Wukong to the ground.

Macaque collapsed to the floor, heaving a little as the elephant towered over him.

Mk gritted his teeth, noticing Azure preparing his sword again.

He needed to act fast.

Wukong knocked Peng off of him, holding back the bird. Peng leapt back, firing his feathers at him.

Wukong spun his staff, deflecting whichever ones came to him. One suddenly pierced through his shoulder. He fell to the ground, gripping his arm as he pried it out.

The blade nearly missed MK. He fell back, avoiding another blow as it crushed the ground beneath him.

"My patience is wearing thin!" Azure yelled, continuing to swing his blade towards MK.

He kept ducking and dodging, letting himself fall through a shadow portal. He rose right out from behind Azure, sweeping him off his feet with a kick.

His sword flew into the air. With one move, MK leapt up and kicked the blade far away.

He landed back on the ground, his tail swishing behind him. He snuck a glance at the others, who seemed to be handling the small demon army quite well.

His staff was torn out of his hands.

Mk froze, seeing Azure snap his weapon in half with ease before punching him.

Mk quickly ducked, avoiding a kick from the lion. He bolted towards his dad's, only to get yanked right back by the torso and thrown into the pilgrims.

"Xiaotian?!" Wujing exclaimed, panicked. He quickly helped MK to his feet.

"I refuse to be brought down by the celestial warriors." Azure growled.

Wukong launched himself from the ground, forcibly tackling Azure to the ground. The lion wrestled the monkey off of him, throwing him to Yellowtusk, who was carrying Macaque on his shoulder.

"NO!" MK cried out. He gritted his teeth, summoning his staff again. He charged at the lion, who's gaze shifted to him mere inches away.

His paw swung.

Claws gleamed.

Time seemed to move too still for him.

MK's breathing hitched, his ears ringing, his body feeling stuck.

And then... It sped right back up as the claws connected to his face.

"KID!!!"

"CUB!!!"

"XIAOTIAN!!!"

Screams echoed through his ears as Mk fell backward, landing on his side.

Macaque gritted his teeth, shadow portaling out of Yellowtusk's grasp. He ran to MK's side, kneeling down to him.

Mk panted, blood splattering on the ground.

Wukong broke out of the elephants grip as well, rushing to MK's side.

The small monkey's fingers traced over his face, blood staining his paws.

He froze, staring at his dad's wide eyed.

"A-Are you guys okay...?" he softly asked, his hand tracing along the claw mark over his left eye.

Macaque gently cupped his cheeks before pulling the kid into a hug.

"H-huh?"

"Wukong. Get the scroll."

Wukong's gaze shifted between his mate and cub. He sighed, moving so fast the brotherhood couldn't catch him. He ducked behind the building, taking a breather.

"Master, I need the scroll. Now." he said.

Tripitaka nodded, passing the scroll of memory to him.

Ao Lie, Zhu Bajie, and Sha Wujing quickly surrounded Macaque and MK, with Tripitaka forming a barrier around them.

"What?" Azure questioned.

Wukong's gaze landed on him first... Sharp, yet hollow. He let the scroll fall open, it's curse shooting out through its incantation.

Clawed hands shot out and grabbed him, dragging him inside the scroll. Peng quickly flew up to leave, only for the tendrils to snag him down from the air and drag him inside as well.

Yellowtusk charged to take the scroll from him, only to get sucked in as well. Wukong tossed the scroll up and sealed it back up. Tripitaka finally came out of hiding, having the scroll passed to him.

"Bud... Are you okay?" Wukong gently pulled MK over to look at him.

Mk stared up at him, wide eyed.

"Why can't I... See?" he asked, confused.

"Oh, buddy..." Wukong pulled his cub into a close hug. Macaque joined them again, holding MK close.

"It hurts..."

"I know it does, bud... But it's... I-it's okay..." Wukong gently assured him, stroking his fur.

But when he met Macaque's gaze, he knew it was not okay at all.

Their little cub had just been blinded.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Notes from my Deathly Hallows reread: Slughorn returns with the Slytherins

So, most of you probably saw or heard of that interview JKR gave back in the day about how Slughorn came back to the battle of Hogwarts with the Slytherin students:

JN: And how much is it that being sorted into Slytherin is, you know, sorted into good guys and bad guys here? JKR: Well, they’re not all bad, that would- I know I’ve said this before, (JN: Yeah, I remember.) and I think I said it to Emerson, they are not all bad, and, well, far from it. As we know, at the end, they may have (laughs) a slightly more highly developed sense of self-preservation then other people because… SU: Yeah, right. JN: Yeah. JKR: A part of the final battle that made me smile was Slughorn galloping back with Slytherins, (SU: Yes!) (JN laughs) but they’d gone off to get reinforcements first, you know what I’m saying? But yes, they came back, they came back to fight, so I mean- but I’m sure that many people would say “Well, that’s common sense, isn’t it? Isn’t that smart, to get out, get more people and come back with them?” JN: Yeah.

(From this interview)

And like most fans, I always kinda assumed it was her retconning things in the books again, because I just didn't remember it happening and she added a lot of little tidbits (some more contradictory than others) in the years after the books, so I don't tend to take them too seriously. But I was reading Deathly Hallows last night and she might've actually written that in:

And now there were more, even more people storming up the front steps, and Harry saw Charlie Weasley overtaking Horace Slughorn, who was still wearing his emerald pajamas. They seemed to have returned at the head of what looked like the families and friends of every Hogwarts student who had remained to fight, along with the shopkeepers and homeowners of Hogsmeade. The centaurs Ban, Ronan, and Magorian burst into the hall with a great clatter of hooves, as behind Harry the door that led to the kitchens was blasted off its hinges. The house-elves of Hogwarts swarmed into the entrance hall

(DH, 734) 619

Harry later mentions a horde of wizards, and we know Harry doesn't actually recognize all the students in his year, let alone all the students in Slytherin he doesn't interact with regularly. So, I wonder if she really meant by "they seemed to have returned" other Slytherins when she wrote it initially and how much of a retcon that interview really is.

Considering it was the middle of the night, the Slytherins likely were wearing pajamas, like Slughon, and maybe cloaks over them and not school robes, so it's possible Harry would have no way of knowing who's a student if he doesn't know them personally.

The only real issue I have with the canonicity of it is this statement from Voldemort:

"If your son is dead, Lucius, it is not my fault. He did not come and join me, like the rest of the Slytherins. Perhaps he has decided to befriend Harry Potter?" "No—never," whispered Malfoy.

(DH, 641)

But perhaps he's talking in hyperbole (or just being a shit to Lucius, as he does), since we know Crabbe and Goyle hadn't come back to join him either and he doesn't mention them.

Additionally, when the Golden Trio goes up to the headmaster's office Phineas Black says this:

and Phineas Nigellus called, in his high, reedy voice, “And let it be noted that Slytherin House played its part! Let our contribution not be forgotten!”

(DH, 747)

It doesn't sound like he's just talking about himself, Snape, and Slughorn, it sounds like he's talking about actual combatants, so...

JKR's statement about Slytherins fighting in the Battle of Hogwarts on Harry's side (besides Slughorn) is surprisingly, probably, canon.

The interview I mentioned was only 7 months after the book came out, so I wonder if she wrote a different version of that paragraph before editing and was thinking about that... It seems the intention might've been there even if she didn't write it all that clearly...

[fujoshicaterpillars]

Happy birthday to my son furuichi takayuki!!

2 days late but I finish it.

Rereading and rewatching beelzebub was a blast. I loved the scene in the anime where they were sitting at the riverside while furuichi was apologizing to oga for getting kidnapped. So, I was thinking that it might be some place where they had been hanging around just having simple fun times and watching the sunset together.

[blodgmonster]

Crescent City: House of Flame and Shadow reread commentary that no one reads except Lindsey. Part 2, electric boogaloo.

- How the HELL did they walk from the Hewn City to the Prison?

- Door was a portal. Okay.

- Midgard's constellations are ours.

- fuuuuuuuuuck the Harpy is alive!!?

-Ithan has to fight Sigrid. This is going to go well. He won't fuck this up at ALL.

- The Dread Trove was created by the Daglan/Asteri! God, I forgot a lot of shit.

- Azriel, who has terrible burn scars on his hands, just walked through Nesta's silver flames with "not an ounce of fear on his beautiful face." Their friendship is low key awesome.

-the Daglan/Asteri corrupted the Cauldron!!!?

- the way Silene describes the fae from Erliea. Beautiful, strong, aggressive, and wild. Hell yeah. These Daglan HAVE to be Valg if the fae from Erliea know them.

- Baxian bit off Ruhn's hand!

- AND FOR NOTHING! THEY GOT CAUGHT.

-Ithan punched through Sigrid's throat. WHAT WAS THE POINT OF SAVING THE FENDYR HEIR, OF INTRODUCING HER TO THE STORY JUST TO KILL HER OFF?

- THEY INFECTED THE WATER!!!? HOW HAVE I FORGOTTEN SO MUCH!?

- Bryce drawing power from the Prison is cool and clever. But then...she earth bends them into a hole. She's so smart and so reckless and it kinda drives me nuts.

- MOTHERFUCKER THERE'S AN ASTERI IN A COFFIN IN THE PRISON

-"'Get fucked,' Bryce snapped toward the coffin." Oh, I can't stay mad at you for long, Bryce Quinlan

- The sprites set fire to the Meat Market. Sprites really are the best.

- SJM has this thing, this tiny detail of evil people having too white teeth and I don't know why but I really like it.

-SHE UNLOCKED THE COFFIN. Bryce, I'm mad at you again.

- the Asteri just picked at an "invisible speck" on her gown. Sounds like someone else we know...

- "Wayfarers we called them. World-walkers." These bitches have to be Valg

-"Vesperus's red mouth opened in joy and triump but no sound came out. Only black blood." FUCKING VALG!!!!!!!!!!

-" Nesta had plunged Ataraxia right through Vesperus's chest." NESTA ARCHERON, VALKYRIE, LADY DEATH, ASTERI KILLER!!!!!!!!!!! MY QUEEN!!!!

- oh wait. She's not dead yet.

- " Ataraxia severed flesh and bone, dark blood...spraying." NESTA DID KILL THAT ASTERI BITCH!

- so the Viper Queen let Tharion go...but is he still a venom junkie?? Is he going to detox later in the book?

- "you shouldn't have killed her." You should shut the fuck up, Bryce.

- and Bryce goes home without allies.

Part 2: The Search

- Aidas is also kind of hot for a blonde.

- oh HELL she showed up in the Autumn King's villa.

-The Autumn King upon the return of his lost daughter:

- "was it possible that the female [Nesta] had pulled her punches?" DUH? As you said, Bryce, she could kill you and not break a sweat. Of course she went easy on you. She's my girl.

- YO, Jesiba! What's up, girly pop!?

-Ithan has entered the House of Flame and Shadow headquarters (for some reason)and there's a bar and a jazz quartet and all I can of is...

- Lidia is such a fuckin BADASS busting them out, grabbing a Jeep and hauling ass through the city. "This is Daybright. Blast it to Hel, Irithys." Fuck yeah! "The Hind had broken the Spine of Pangera with one fatal blow, ignited by the fire from the lost Sprite Queen."

- "The world seemed to hold its breath as the elegant doe walked up to Ruhn and gently, lovingly, nuzzled his neck."

- "Lidia let out a choked, bloody laugh as she died." I know it's not permanent but

- Tharion is going into withdrawls from the venom.

-"A world where people loved and valued books and learning so much that they were willing to die for them. Can you imagine what such a civilization was like?" Sounds fucking awesome.

- Bryce booped her asshole dad on the nose with the Starsword lol

- take a drink whenever a SJM character picks at invisible lint.

- the Ocean Queen is super cool omg.

-Lidia hasn't even MET her sons. She's a tragedy.

- Why would the Viper Queen want his head? Ithan did his one fight. She should have let him go? Oh maybe because the sprites set the place on fire?

- Bryce has arrived and anointed herself Queen.

Almost halfway into the book. We'll stop this portion here. Stay tuned for part 3!

[theboywithburninghands]

Haven’t got anything to say this time. Hope you like the latest chapter! @fernstarsblog your tag as always

T/W: Era appropriate sexism

Primum Peccatum Ch. 6: Stuttering, Cold and Damp

Primum Peccatum was only about four miles long, the majority of it empty land purchased by rich families, waiting to be cultivated for their sons’ and daughters’ estates. The trees consisted mostly of black pine, with the occasional thicket of dogwood or white birch.

Landmarks were mostly gathered around the center of the island, other than the handful of completed estates scattered about such as the Shutnyk and Rooker Estates, and the post office, which was by the pier for obvious reasons. These landmarks included the island’s branch of The Gray Church, Lakepoint Assembly Hall, for Homeowners Association meetings and holiday events, and a small freshwater pond known as Falconhurst Cove, named after one of the founders of the island. It contained little, other than 8 feet of water, some small guppies, cattails, algae and a few ducks or loons on occasion. It had been public property for years, a quiet bit of unmanufactured nature for the residents to enjoy.

Pomni sat by Falconhurst with her novel. It wasn’t her favorite spot for reading, that would be her father’s library, but she didn’t want to be in her parents’ vicinity at the moment. Her mother would doubtlessly ask for her opinions on wedding decor and what Pomni wanted her dress to look like. Pomni had told her, several times, quite clearly, that she wanted nothing gaudy, and a black and white color scheme. Her favorite colors were red and blue, yes, but they looked good on flowers and birds, not people.

Falconhurst was a reasonable substitute. Pomni liked the pond. It was a tranquil place, and even in the summertime it didn’t attract very many mosquitos, mostly craneflies and pond skimmers. But the water was stagnant and too filthy for swimming, and while her parents enjoyed feeding bread to the waterfowl, Pomni didn’t much care for them. They were loud and greedy, and they left their droppings all over the grass. Cute as they were, she’d rather be alone.

She was enjoying rereading her novel, even if she had the whole thing memorized. Houston’s prose was so clean and precise. She described settings with such ease. The town in Humidity was as clear to her mind’s eye as was the pond right in front of her. If she were a better artist, she might have attempted to draw it.

There was a tap on her open book, like someone lightly drumming a finger on it. A blotch of water about the size of a pea sat in the middle of page 43. Pomni looked up at the sky, which was a soft gray. She heard other drops land on the leaves of grass and make rings on the pond.

“Oh, blast… I was hoping it would hold off a bit longer.” Pomni sighed. She wiped the raindrop off the page of her book to avoid smearing the ink, shut it and tucked it into her handbag. She got to her feet and began to walk to The Gray Church, about a half mile away. She could wait out the rain in the Assembly Hall just a short walk away, but the HOA President Mr. Kretschmann might have locked the door, and even then, she’d rather be at the church with a friend than in a dark function room by herself. She never liked that place much anyway, with all the tedious parties her parents had made her attend.

The few droplets of rain had picked up into a drizzle as she made her way to the road. Pomni walked beneath the treeline to keep the rain off, enjoying the pleasant sound of raindrops whispering in the pine needles above her. If this weather kept up, she might have actually tried to find an especially dry place to read, but the book didn’t belong to her. So the church it was.

As she walked towards the church, the rain gradually picked up in volume. Hm, this was starting to become risky. She didn’t want to run the risk of a head cold. That would force her to stay at home and listen to her mother’s nattering. She quickened her pace, droplets of water beginning to eke through the pine needles above her with increasing frequency.

She came upon the church on the horizon. What a relief… She hoped Ragatha had the kettle on. It was a bit selfish to think such a thing, but she hadn’t had the chance to enjoy solitude with one of her only friends on this island, at least without being interrupted by that dreadful shapeman with huge teeth.

“Well, it seems our paths align once again, my dear.”

Pomni nearly slipped and dropped her book upon hearing a familiar, glib voice nearby.

Jax Krolik stood out on the road under a black umbrella, clad in his usual gray on gray waistcoat and trousers, although this time with an ultramarine ascot rather than his usual red one. He smiled.

“Mr. Krolik. Is it truly a crossing of paths, or are you following me?” Pomni countered.

“Once again, your talent for presumption truly astounds.” Jax said, his smile not faltering. “I suppose any coincidence you encounter inspires a conspiracy theory, hm? Perhaps my being here was foretold by the very constellations.”

He gave a theatrical wave of the hand. Pomni scoffed, crossing her arms. “A true wordsmith. Do you employ such doggerel with all of your marks?”

“Only with my betrothed. You should come under the umbrella, the rain is picking up.”

“I’m just fine, thank you,” Pomni answered curtly.

“Somehow I find that difficult to believe. Is that a library book? You wouldn’t want that ruined, I’m certain. You have such a fine library at home, I figured you must have some appreciation of the written word.”

“Our agreement, need I remind you, Mr. Krolik-”

Jax merely walked over to Pomni, shading her with his umbrella.

“You needn’t remind me. I’m quite aware. However, it would be ungentlemanly to allow you to stand there and become drenched. You don’t honestly believe the rumors that we beastfolk bite, do you?”

Jax seemed to show more of his teeth.

“I… Appreciate the gesture, I suppose. Even if it is basic courtesy.” Pomni said. “Must you always act so… self-assured?”

“Act? My self-assurance is entirely genuine.”

“Genuine it may be, yet no less irritating. If you wouldn’t mind, please tell me why you’re here.”

Jax pointed to the church in the distance. “I was just about to inquire if the island’s Gray Sister had seen my sister-in-law. I heard footsteps and thought it may have been Kali, but, alas, it was only you.”

Pomni rolled her eyes. “Hmm. I encountered Kali on the ferry earlier. She said she was on her way to visit you. Has she become lost?”

“Hardly,” Jax replied. “I had one last query for her, but I had forgotten all about it until after she left The Rooker Estate. I saw her leave in this direction.”

“Yes, she told me she was going to the church,” Pomni said. “She may still be inside.”

“Wonderful! Let’s investigate together, shall we?” Jax strode forward, Pomni having to quicken her pace to keep dry beneath his umbrella.

This marked the second time her fiancé had intruded on one of her sanctuaries. It was fortunate he had an umbrella, but that was coincidental, surely. It seemed this fellow had no intention of following the agreement that he himself put forth… disappointing yet ultimately unsurprising.

“How are the wedding preparations coming along in your household, Ms. Shutnyk?” asked Jax.

“Er… I wouldn’t know. I’ve been doing what I can to remain distant from the whole business. I assume that’s why you’re living here on Primum Peccatum rather than on the mainland. Apart from ‘keeping up appearances,’ that is.”

Jax grinned yet again. His frequent smiling disturbed Pomni. She only smiled if something truly made her happy, otherwise her affect was neutral at all times. Her mother had scolded her so often for that. What was so amusing to Jax?

“You could say that’s one reason. Event planning always seemed like an exercise in drudgery. But I also wanted to explore where I would be living for the rest of my days. And what a charming little island it is!”

Pomni nodded. “Even in spite of your dyspepsia?”

Jax looked puzzled for a moment, before his smile lengthened again.

“My dyspep- Ah, yes! Of course. Apologies for leaving you so suddenly yesterday. I have a delicate constitution.”

Pomni squinted. It seemed as though he had forgotten about his ailments, even if they had him rushing to the water closet only yesterday. Which meant either these digestive issues happened so frequently that Mr. Krolik genuinely forgot about having them yesterday… or he wasn’t telling the truth. Perhaps he had become crawsick. Kinger did have a rather extensive wine collection.

Jax continued speaking. “I must say, it does rain quite often in New Hirnantia. Back when I was just a lad and my family still resided in Ediacara, we were lucky to get rain more than twice in one month. Yet here-”

“Mr. Krolik, is this conversation necessary?” Pomni interrupted.

Jax stopped walking. “…I suppose not. But, if we are to be wed, we should at least tolerate one another’s company. It would be a miserable existence if we spent our days bickering, would it not? I would call that a waste of a life.”

Pomni hummed. “Very well, but may we discuss something other than the weather? That topic is rather banal.”

The pair reached the heavy oak door to the sanctuary, Jax rapping on it smartly. After a moment, the hasp could be heard being undone and the door opened with an achy iron creak.

Sister Ragatha’s oddly grim expression brightened upon seeing a familiar face.

“Well good afternoon, Pomni! And who might you be sir?”

Jax extended a hand. “Good afternoon, sister. Jax Krolik. Miss Shutnyk’s fiancé.”

Pomni blinked for a few moments too long.

Ragatha looked at his gloved hand for a moment, uncertain of what to do, before she took it in both of her hands and squeezed it.

“Allfather bless you, Mr. Krolik. I am Sister Ragatha, acting priestess for this branch of The Gray Church. Please come in, both of you.”

She motioned the pair inside, Pomni removing her shoes at the door. Jax unzipped his wide boots and stepped out barefoot onto the carpet, sighing with relief. He hung his umbrella out the door and shook the rainwater off of it before closing it and hanging it on one of the hooks.

“What brings you to this house of worship in such unpleasant weather? Ah- pardon me,” Ragatha removed the hood of her habit, letting her bright red curls cascade onto her shoulders. She shook her head and sighed. “I’ve been meaning to get my hair trimmed.”

“I was wondering, ma’am, if you’ve seen my sister-in-law today. She looks much like me, but with orange fur rather than purple.” Jax explained.

Ragatha thought for a moment. “Hm… I don’t believe I have. The only people I’ve seen today are the two of you, apart from confessors. And naturally, I don’t know their identities.”

Jax’s face fell. “Ah, I see. No matter, thank you for your time, ma’am.”

“If you’re worried for her, I could help organize a search party. This is a rather small island, I’m sure we could have the whole community combed over in just a few hours.” Ragatha suggested, but Jax was already pulling his boots back on.

“That’s unnecessary, sister. I’m sure we merely missed one another. Have a truly sanctimonious day.” Jax pulled the church door open and marched off into the rain, which had hastened considerably.

“Mr. Krolik..!” Pomni called after him. She watched him splash down the road until he disappeared over the crest of the hill leading towards her parents’ and Mr. Rooker’s estate. She made a noise of annoyance and returned to the chapel.

“Sanctimonious..?” Ragatha said to herself. “I can’t tell if he was being rude or simply used the wrong word.”

“More than likely the latter. A poet, he is not.” Pomni replied, looking at the dripping umbrella Jax left on the hook.

“Hm, well, hopefully he won’t catch his death of cold. You’re welcome to stay here until the rain subsides, of course.” Ragatha said.

“Thank you, I may take you up on that offer.” Pomni hadn’t taken her eyes off of the umbrella. She sighed. He kept her dry long enough to get to a place of refuge. She had to return it. “No, I shouldn’t. He’ll be missing that umbrella.”

Ragatha smiled proudly. “Well, that’s a very charitable thing to do, Pomni. I’m sure The Hereafter just became a bit easier for you to see.”

“Hmph,” was Pomni’s reply. She stepped out onto the stoop, opening the umbrella in a shower of droplets. She held it over herself and tucked her book under her arm, and walked cautiously to the steps.

“Oh, Pomni! One moment before you leave!” Ragatha came to the doorway, a smile alighting her face. “Your mother plans on having your wedding here, at this very church. So I’ll be the officiater!”

Pomni smiled in return. It took some

effort, but she maintained eye contact. “Well, if it must happen, I’d be delighted to have you wed me, Ragatha. Have a wonderful day.”

“You as well, little sister. Stay dry.” Ragatha beamed and shut the door to the church. Pomni itched at her arm. While she abhorred this whole situation, she did feel a small bit better that one of her best friends would be officiating and not a stranger.

As she walked down the rainswept path, questions buzzed in her mind like irritating little fruit flies. Kali told her she was going to The Gray Church, yet Ragatha said she had only spoken to anonymous confessors today. So she must have been confessing. But what about? Something to do with Jax? Had she lied about thinking Pomni could run her father’s business? That would certainly be a dagger in her back… And why had Jax gone to find her? There was mention of a question, yes, but her fiancé had already told many half-truths… none of it added up. She supposed she’d have to ponder this more carefully once she wasn’t in the driving rain.

The pink Shutnyk Estate came into view, but Pomni walked right past it towards Mr. Rooker’s manor. Hopefully the rain would let up at least a little by the time she headed back home. Her book would be wet pulp if she walked uncovered in this deluge. She turned into Kinger’s raggy garden, and stopped when she saw a figure sat against the front door, elbows on their knees.

“Mr. Krolik?”

Sure enough, it was Jax, purple fur dripping wet, leaning against the Rooker estate’s locked door in water-darkened clothes. He looked over at Pomni, smirking.

“We meet again. Maybe it was preordained.”

Jax walked through this without any kind of protection? What a foolish thing to do. Still, her chest did ache with a mote of pity for the rabbit. No one deserved to be soaked to the bone and trapped outdoors, even if they were at fault. Thank goodness it was warm out or he may be risking his life out here…

“Why aren’t you indoors?!” Pomni demanded.

“Well, it would appear Mr. Rooker left for the day, and neglected to tell me.” Jax replied.

“And he didn’t give you an extra key?!” Pomni asked, having to raise her voice over the rain.

“No, he did not.”

Pomni scoffed and walked up onto the wet stoop. She took out her ring of keys, finding the extra one Kinger lent her ages ago to feed his insect collection, and unlocked the door. Jax climbed to his feet, water drooling off of his sleeves and pooling under his boots.

“There. I apologize on Mr. Rooker’s behalf. The old duffer’s memory isn’t exactly reliable. Be careful not to get water on any of his documents, or you’ll be out in the cold. Here’s your umbrella. Good afternoon.”

“You’re certain you want to go out in that?” Jax nodded towards the now torrential rain.

“I don’t have much say in the matter, do I?” Pomni retorted.

“You could always wait out the downpour.” Jax said.

“That is not ideal.” Pomni stated firmly.

“Sometimes the ideal choice isn’t possible. Look at us.” Jax said with a grin.

“Oh for the love of The Allfather… Very well. Only because I fear for my book.”

She stepped inside Kinger’s estate, removing her sunhat and placing it onto one of the stacks of paper. Jax stepped inside, removed his soaked-through boots and jacket.

“Excuse me. Please don’t disrobe in front of me.” Pomni requested sharply.

Jax didn’t reply, opening the door and wringing his sopping wet waistcoat out. There was a clink as a small glass tincture bottle fell out onto the stoop.

“Oh, thank goodness that didn’t break…” Jax picked it up hurriedly.

“What is that?” Pomni inquired.

“That is what’s going to keep me from falling ill. An Ediacaran holistic. Good for most minor ailments such as dyspepsia and immune health.”

He removed the dropper from the bottle, sticking out his tongue and squeezing two drops of reddish brown liquid onto it.

“I see,” Pomni said. “And it works?”

“Most certainly. I always carry a bottle on my person. Would you like to try some? The flavor is quite unpleasant.”

Pomni held a hand out in opposition. “I’m quite alright, thank you. I’d rather use real medicine…”

“Suit yourself, dear. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get into something more presentable.”

“Very well… You may do so.”

Jax nodded and began removing his shirt.

“In your bedchamber.” Pomni ordered.

“Ahhh, you must be more specific next time, dear.” Jax replied with a grin. He went upstairs to the second floor. Pomni shook her head in disbelief, going into the kitchen to put on the teakettle.

From outside, a shapeman in red watched through the window. He held a red umbrella above his head, made up almost entirely of teeth. Despite the downpour, both he and his umbrella were dust-dry. He checked to see if it was still raining. Water hit his glove and beaded off. He folded his umbrella, twirling it in his hand, and walked into the woods.

[gallus-rising]

People I’d like to know better tag! tagged by @you-can-be-what-you-want-to-be (thanks for the Tag Game Blast lol)

Last Song: ..................................Running in the 90s

Fav Color: realizing that the only way i know how to describe my fav colors anymore is via Flight Rising so anyways: swamp, spruce, orca, copper, but more than anything else abyss basic my beloved (one more) (Tome gets a special shout out because abyss/Myrid looks like space)

Last Movie: Snowpiercer

Last Book: ok depending on how we define "book" it was either my reread of Animon Story (ttrpg rulebook) or New World (comic anthology)

Last Show: Ranma 1/2

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: yes

Relationship Status: No

Last Thing I Googled: idk i've got that thing set to auto delete and have a 3 second memory

Current Obsession: my son TheEvilEye

Looking Forward To: dinner at my grandparents' tomorrow <3

tagging: @argothiathedreamer @bakageta @clefclefairy @ferbulo @mister13eyond @number1greedlingfan @tr0llskog

[devotedbutterfly]

A another song suggestion for yin guang

https://open.spotify.com/track/0I8x68KiTOvx1VGDJLXzGO?si=FrrTA0ceTJKqZZhqRLAqIw&context=spotify%3Atrack%3A0I8x68KiTOvx1VGDJLXzGO

I might go reread little sun again because I like torturing myself

🥹🥹I love how so many of yall r giving me song reccs for my son, Yin Guang😭😭💔💔🥹 I’m seeing them all and having a blast listening to them AND I’ve placed this one in the playlist just now and GAHHHGHH 😭it’s so YX core… this hurts

thank uuuu😭🙏

[underforeversgrace]

Beep boop hello to you! Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💚

Beep boop, hewwo! (Also tagged in this @darthfrodophantom! I love getting asks like this!

In no particular order:

broken trust and the wounds hidden behind/where the wounds were hidden

Summary: Jack wasn't meaning to snoop in his son's room when he found a box of medical supplies and a USB with a tag that said IF I DON'T COME HOME. Danny’s secrets revealed, Jack is desperate to earn his son’s trust, to earn the right to this secret he stumbled across. After almost two years of unknowingly hunting his son, is Danny's trust too broken to heal?

Reason: this is easily my most popular fic to date, and one I routinely reread. I just really love the idea of Danny's parents figuring it out and trying to support him, and I just love really, really love Jack. Also this one is what "put me on the map" in the phandom, so to speak, and I'll always love it for that. I'm including the tag-along fic with it bc it's not a sequel/is a short addition.

Woken and Bound

Summary: Danny wakes up in chains, Clockwork and the Observants hovering above him. Knowing only one fate could bring them here, he didn’t even fight, just bows his head and waits.

Reason: This one was created off a discussion in the Danny Phantom Discord! It was one of the first real interactions I had with the phandom. The fic is just angsty enough, but the memory of writing it is still fun!

same memory (different perspective)

Summary: It’s just chores, just him cleaning the lab. It’s just a normal day and he’s definitely fine. His fight or flight instinct definitely isn’t screaming at every single atom in himself to run.

Reason: I don't really have an emotional reason tied to this one, surprisingly. It was just a dissec fic I wrote that I ended up really, really enjoying. It's short and to the point, and the point is agony.

Parental Responsiblility

Summary: After a night she’d rather forget, Jack and Maddie are missing, and Jazz has to face her new reality.

Reason: This was the first fic I ever tried to write where I used timeline jumping as a major storytelling method, it was also the first fic wherein I focused on one person's POV, instead of POV hopping. Also my first time writing Jazz POV at all! This is also the fic I consider my most fucked up.

we live our lives like we're ready to die

Summary: DP x Angel: the Series (BTVS) crossover! (Actual short summary because the real summary is long: Wesley and Sam get into a bidding war over an ancient text. Wes needs it for Angel, Sam needs it because Danny is inexplicably drawn to it. Shenanigans!)

Reason: This might just have some "woo-hoo new fic energy!" pushing it up on my faves, but I am genuinely enjoying reading and writing this fic. I never thought I'd do any type of crossover fic, but this is just a blast and a half! Trying to fit the lores together, figure out how these characters will play off of each other and react to each other is a blast! This is the single most self indulgent fic I've ever written and I love it for that.

[deadlysoupy]

Hi! For the Rook ask game: 4, 12,13,15, 23, 29, 47,48

this is long but here we go!!! (a refresher bc geez i needed one too lmao)

Which faction did they join, and why? How long has it been?

it wasn't a choice, per say. it basically went like this: you're just minding your own business, being a Tevinter slave, non-mage ("In a world made for mages", as Tarquin once said), trying to not go insane. you're twelve, by the way. so, when a bunch of Lords of Fortune thieves break into a ship you are held on, and they ask you about a shiny gold statue, you give it to them, but they kind of... kidnap you. as a sort of "thanks for letting us have the artifact". Isabela herself trains you - first with knives, then with daggers - for ten years, and only then are you allowed to go on your own escapades

tldr: it's been a long time, Urchin (the Lords gave him that name since he didn't have one) has been with them for fifteen years now, and he's having a blast

Does Rook have any family? Do they keep in touch?

Urchin used to have close brothers and sisters, even a family, but they separated for each other's safety during a slave uprising, and he hasn't heard from them since

BUT he does have Isabela and the Lords now! i think they have a nice complicated relationship of "i never wanted a son or a daughter, but you reflect me like a mirror and i hate admitting it" with Isabela and "you're the first one who saw me as a person and cared for me so i'm going to make it your problem" with Urchin. they get along great trust me (he does also have some friends but nothing permanent)

Did Rook bring any trinkets/sentimental items to The Lighthouse?

that's a very good question i honestly haven't thought of before. i think he'd be really attached to the Lords attributes, like earrings, rings, just all kinds of jewellery. though... i think he'd also carry a book Isabela used to read to him as a kid. he rereads it a few times a year or so, to refresh his memory and his reading skills (he's not very good at reading), and it brings Isa closer to him. it's cute

What’s the first thing people notice when Rook enters a room?

independent on when and where they meet him, Rook always arrives in style. he loves being a show-off and a diva, to be in the centre of attention, and he dressed up for it, too. usually he wears a tevinter mage robes with a cloak for quick getaways and keeping his face hidden, but they're, first of all, Tevinter clothes (so, flashy blue-red combo), second of all, he's an elf who isn't even a mage. and he wears earrings like crazy. so i think the first impression of him would be "what the fuck"

What does Rook wear in the off hours? Do they like dressing up?

surprisingly, he doesn't actually have that many attires. he just loves very specific ones and wears them all the time. at the Lighthouse, Rook favours his old outfit, gifted on his twenty second birthday (ten year anniversary of being taken in), and he hasn't stopped wearing it since. it's a simple white tunic that he vicariously takes care of and slightly worn off pants, tied together by a belt with a gold chain (yes it's the re-coloured crows outfit what of it, it looks good on him!). it's simple, but he likes it. also earrings, obviously

Any vices?

oh, he's actually horrible at emotionally connecting to people. he's used to doing things alone, he's not used to opening up to anyone outside of very few people (cough cough Isabela's influence cough cough), so whenever their little team needs to confide in Rook, he just sort of... shuts off. i mean, yeah, he's trying to help by highlighting the good in any situation, and he makes a joke every five seconds just because he doesn't understand what people need from him when they're hurt. he sort of just listens, and does his best. on some people it works, on some it doesn't (i explain in the relationship chart post what Rook and Emmrich's relationship is like. yeah)

What’s Rook’s temper like?

explosive, at times (i was trying to do a pun for the saboteur spec but it didn't work. take it anyway)

usually he's a pretty laid-back dude, doesn't get angry a lot, not much can set him off in the first place. when he's in Minrathous, even, the city that he came out of with scars and years of ptsd, he doesn't really let it get to him. when he sees slaves (pretend they're there, okay? just imagine) being treated poorly he looks away and minds his own business than risk jail or something worse

but. in very specific situations he lets his anger take him over - and it has consequences for everyone. i believe it's implied that Laidir Rook killed the noble that betrayed him and Varric himself, and i think he'd be furious during it. like, to the point when he'd need to be stopped just so he could stop stabbing the poor corpse. so here we go - a problem with authority (hence why i can't pick the "reason with" option with the Grey Warden - there's just no way my Rook wouldn't want to beat the shit out of him out of pure rage)

A color, flower, animal, and weather to describe Rook:

colour: gold or sky blue

animal: magpie (like come on that's a low hanging fruit i couldn't NOT make him a magpie. my rookanis playlist is called "crow/magpie" this came to me in a vision)

weather: hot summer morning

[complicitsacrilege]

A Tag Thing!

Tagged by @pinkestpigglet - thank youuuu!

Current time: 1:58 am

Current mood: neutral? tired? bored? not really sure but not much of anything.

Current activity: writing a reply to a Seth/Fareed RP with a friend. And procrastinating bedtime again.

Currently thinking about: don't really have a lot on my mind at the moment except that I want to play my violin but it is 2 in the morning. 🥲

Current favorite song: god okay I can't pick just one, so here, have a mini playlist.

Recuerdos De La Alhambra - performed by Andrés Segovia STUNNING. FLAWLESS. MAKES ME CRY EVERY TIME.

Quiet as a Rat - Amigo the Devil

Don't Save Me - Chxrlotte

The Curse of Elkhart by Murder by Death this band is probably one of my top 5 faves

Pyre - Son Lux

You Took the Words Right Out of My Mouth - Meat Loaf classic - also the Loustat vibe is on point

Cello Sonata No. 3 in A Minor RV 43 - Vivaldi my fave song to play on any instrument

And When I Die - The Heavy put this shit on blast tbh

You Belong to Me - Cat Pierce the Armand vibes of this are IMMACULATE

And if you're really in it, Symphony No. 5 - Dmitri Shostakovich directed by Bernstein is my favorite Symphony by any composer. (the Solti directed version is also great! But in either case, movement 4 is the most fun imo, but the whole thing is great if you have an hour to listen. Honestly I could just watch Bernstein conduct all day and be happy)

Currently reading:

Reread of Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis

Nailbiter vol 1

Well Traveled - Jen DeLuca

An Inheritance of Monsters - Cate Corvin

Shubeik Lubeik by Deena Mohamed

Pretty Deadly vol 1

Listening to the Killer Psyche podcast

Currently watching: uhh... I'm not really watching anything? Tbh I don't really watch a lot of TV. But I am replaying Untitled Goose Game and started playing Killer Frequency!

Current favorite character: Armand, as always. But also Lestat, Seth, and Fareed. I can't pick just one (this is a trend, if you haven't noticed)

Current WIPs: screenplays for a tv series a friend and I are writing, several sketches, a few crochet things (including socks, friend's holiday presents, an amigurumi dog, and a granny square blanket)

Tagging: @isabellehemlock @translouisdpdl @0nelittlebirdtoldme @dark-gift @argyleheir if y'all wanna do a thing

or if anyone else wants to do a thing, go for it!

[amplifyme]

I finished it!! (and immediately circled back to fill in the blanks like you "warned" me, lol.) Okay, I have mixed thoughts that will be better fleshed out when I reread Part III again~; and I'd love your opinions.

Diana trying her best but inadvertently muzzling Vincent-- ohhhhhhhhhhh, that scene. So heartbreaking. His guilt, his shame, his self-reproach climbing and climbing.

The three months, Laura, bless her heart, LENA (still I did not suspect at this point), Diana facing her fears, the in-betweens and courage.

My only... not gripe, that's too strong of a word. Puzzlement? Is that there seems to be moments in Part III that repeat bits and pieces of Part I and II. At first I discounted them as time fillers; but as I kept reading, the material didn't support that assumption at all. Those moments are important to fleshing out Diana, to working out the plot in the background, to deepening Vincent's dark pathway. I do need to thoroughly reread it (and I will, because I'm speed-rereading Part I, will II, then III to sort out my jumbled impressions.) I think, hm, it has the most happenings of all three parts, yet also the most time spent waiting for things to happen; or doubling back to "redo" something for a different outcome. That's not bad; but not what I'd expected.

Back to the praise~!

Diana's secret ability surprise and revocation was such a shock that I had to really, really let it digest. At first, I felt it encroached on Vincent's narrative importance, like Esau did on Jacob's (I'll get to him.) But she's different; and that difference was so subtly and magnificently built up (especially on a reread) that I am a very happy woman. My heart-- the way she says "goodbye" to every object to get Vincent to unlock her abilities and her enthusiasm at surprising him... my heart can only take so much. I adore that scene so much I stopped and reread it on a first go-through.

The Maze, the promise, the Chase, the Other-Buster, Jacob dropping in, Buster's dream, Diana healing his abandonment and becoming part of his flashback... surprisingly, the Maze was the most comforting section in all of Part III, the closest it got to the cozy ease of Part II. And I got to read the quote that got me into this story in the first place-- the sun tea, the lake, the beauty of that moment, will stick with me a long, long time.

I thought all their troubles (besides the bowers) were solved! ...And then Marco happened, and Vincent was out of reach. At this point, I was really frustrated, thb, because it didn't make sense why he'd decided what he did. But I love that Nan had a solidly good reason and am glad that my trust in her and patience hadn't faded. Good things come to those who wait~.

Buster and the recovery and Father and the Naming and turning it down last minute. Just... stupendous. That's also a bit of a comfort read; but it was a final nail in his decision to let go.

I have a question: on the Plains, was the Other not willing to fight or help because he'd already been "healed", and therefore was ready to, for lack of a better word, integrate? Or was the integration-- of which he and Vincent were unaware-- rubbing Vincent's apathy off on him without his knowledge? And, by taking Vincent's place and choosing to heal then reject the Naming, did Buster make an active choice to speed along the process, or start and end it? (See, I need to reread~. ;)))) No problem for me~.) I'm fascinated by his dynamic with Catherine on the Plains and how that contributed to his character arc-- cannot wait to hit that part in the reread.

The voices are singing-- what an genius, incredible idea, tying it back to Diana blasting music at him in her apartment. The irony of him not liking to sing while hearing everyone else "sing" daily. And I love that Father, for all his setbacks, still wants the best for his son. And the Below people wanting to help. And Diana recreating his childhood hiding place-- amazing.

My favorite scene is probably Diana reaching Vincent (after passing her pop) and coaxing him back to reality-- not by convincing or arguing, but simply reconnecting him to people he loves by talking about them. It's the little things.

Sensing death pass them over Above... what a beautiful scene.

And then Vincent realizes what the Other has done, and what those changes mean, and despairs. Nan giving him shoving those conflicted feelings with his natural loathing together was a delight to read. And Father helping Vincent recover at Diana's place, and the raid on her house (LENA), and Kristopher (ohhhhh, Kristopher... I was so sad when Diana put the pieces together), and her capture, and Vincent's cut off emotions, and those feelings bleeding into ruthless action because he's lost faith in himself, and Diana finding the unnamed "Esau" (which is the scene I finally accepted the baby as a character and didn't... resent? him, separating him as his own person from Jacob's importance... and he's adorable), and Cookie, and Vincent and her signing through the wall, and her rescuing baby Catherine, and LENA, and Bianca guiding her to safety while Vincent doesn't come... then Diana realizing how bad off Vincent is and finding him and doubly realizing that she is "at fault" for what happened to him, and the two of them reconnecting, and her doubling back to rescue "Esau", and him opening the floods, and "Esau" licking Diana's chin and being delighted she licked back (my heart Grinched three sizes, I swear.)

Another thing that confused me (which closer adherence will likely clear up): Vincent reconnecting and reopening to Diana but still following through with his plan, anticipating his death.

Lena's an interesting study: I'm delighted at how much she didn't get her way in the final act and that Marco finally did what he did; but I can also see it from her perspective (and how twisted it is.) She did everything for desperate attention but at the disservice of others while also not seeing what was wrong nor the consequences for her actions. Good riddance, honestly (but I could get it.)

Vincent coming into his own and fully in command after the water is over, and reluctantly letting some of the bowers join (and the bowers, even Bianca, still worshipping him), and Cookie getting stared down, and Lena almost winning (my rage at this moment was indescribable), and Father admitting his part in this disaster, and Jamie (amazing Jamie), and Joe's success with the DA, and Diana letting Vincent hang on her noncommittal answer about the green dress as they walk back to her apartment for a diaper for "Esau", and Winterfest approaching to bring the narrative all back together.

Thus far, I love Parts I and II more; but I KNOW that a more thorough reread will bring this right up into the ranks with them. Just some pieces I have to slot in. Also, if you wouldn't mind giving me a cheat code: when Lena... did what she did, why did Catherine's memory wash over Vincent/the Other at the same time? Catherine said on the Plains it was time for him to remember; but didn't that hurt Vincent, overall, more than help? Or was it a self-protective measure he did separate from Catherine? That dynamic still needs to be made clearer to me (ohhh, noooooooo, more reading. Whatever will I do??)

And yes, the epilogue roped me right back in-- it's what caused me to head to the beginning and start to fill in the cracks. (Sidenote: I'm typing up little notes on my reread... and Theseus takes on a whole different meaning once Lena's perspectives and ultimate plan-- well... the bowers' plan she cooperated with, anyway-- become slotted in. And because Vincent and Diana missed her true other meaning, it became a domino for the plot, their hangups, and their relationship. Fascinating on a reread.)

Tell me all about your love for this Part, what I'm missing, what is genius, what is beautiful, what is made new. I had a gloriously fantastic time-- haven't read something that engaging and intelligently layered and powerfully moving in quite a spell.

Thank you for bringing this series and Nan's work to my attention. She's a keeper and a treasure. (And I still have more of her work to read when I'm done digesting this one. Can't wait.)

Under the cut.

Okay, I finished Part 3 tonight. I'm gonna try to address as much of your post as I can. First of all, no need for thank you. It was joy to introduce you to Nan's work. The pleasure is all mine.

Laura (episodes An Impossible Silence and Sticks and Stones in S1 & 2 and Legacies in S3) was a groundbreaking character for television in 1987 - 1990. Not a lot of storylines written for deaf actors back then. And Sticks and Stones had scenes where no dialogue was spoken, it was all ASL. And most of the guest actors were also deaf. Perlman learned (and accomplished beautifully) street ASL from Terrylene, the actor who played Laura. I could watch the conversation in Father's study between Vincent, Laura, and Father in An Impossible Silence on a loop, it is that good.

Anyway, back to AWTN. Sorry, got sidetracked. 😄

I love all the moments you mentioned, but I want to address the questions you had, and perhaps clear up some things, if your re-read hasn't done that yet.

"My only... not gripe, that's too strong of a word. Puzzlement? Is that there seems to be moments in Part III that repeat bits and pieces of Part I and II."

You'll have to be more specific than that, if you can.

"...the Maze was the most comforting section in all of Part III, the closest it got to the cozy ease of Part II."

Well, Part II was the calm before the storm. But, yes, Inside Out is, to repeat the phrase, a masterpiece. But that's the thing that makes this fic so good, it's filled with masterpieces. Even a single sentence can make you want to roll up into a ball and squeal.

"I have a question: on the Plains, was the Other not willing to fight or help because he'd already been "healed", and therefore was ready to, for lack of a better word, integrate?"

You have to keep in mind that Vincent is the dominant personality of the two. So it's what he does that affects what Buster does, not the other (no pun intended) way around. Buster had nothing to do with the integration - he had no choice in it. But neither did Vincent. What Diana did by rescuing Buster in his dream (which is where the split began, and which was also Vincent's dream, even if he's not consciously aware of it at the time) began to heal the split that he'd created so many years before. Neither of the dual natures within him had a choice. The integration was like the sea rushing in and filling all the nooks and crannies. It was unstoppable, a force of nature.😉

"The voices are singing-- what an genius, incredible idea, tying it back to Diana blasting music at him in her apartment."

Oh, but it's not just that one instance. Can't remember which part it was in, but remember Diana realizing that Vincent was taking all those discordant voices he heard through his empathy and tuning them, making music of them, becoming their conductor? And that's why he loved orchestral music? I love that idea.

"And then Vincent realizes what the Other has done, and what those changes mean, and despairs."

Again, Buster hasn't really done anything. He was perfectly content to bow out and go back to his plain and Catherine. He's just the convenient fall-guy.

"Diana finding the unnamed "Esau" (which is the scene I finally accepted the baby as a character and didn't... resent? him, separating him as his own person from Jacob's importance... and he's adorable)"

Nan had decided to call him Charles, after Catherine's father, or for Charles, The Hideous Dragon Man (ep Brothers). I think it's a fine name for him. Read Nan's poem, For Charles on her page.

"Another thing that confused me (which closer adherence will likely clear up): Vincent reconnecting and reopening to Diana but still following through with his plan, anticipating his death."

Vincent had made himself pretty clear to the bowers: give up the child by his deadline or die. And he was more than willing to die along with Esau, rather than let the bowers have him. In the end Vincent wanted him, but not at the cost of being something he couldn't be. You have to keep in mind the amount of trauma he's sustained over the years, and how ingrained it was and how deeply it went. In his mind he couldn't be, anymore, who Father wanted him to be, or the tunnel community, or Catherine, or Devin, or Mouse and Jamie, or anyone else. He was too deep in his own despair to realize that, despite Diana's repugnance at sharing in his killing, she loved him however he came. And so did his family. He was thinking only of the pain he'd caused by being who and what he was, and not considering the joy he'd brought to others simply by being who and what he was. He couldn't see the forest for the trees.

I figure his thinking, after unleashing the water, was, "Okay, I didn't die. Guess I should find out what's going on." Because that's what makes Vincent Vincent: he doesn't know how to quit, how not to serve others as long as he's at least semi-upright and breathing.

Marco = Angelo. But I knew what you meant. 😉 Yeah, I wasn't sad to see Lena go either. Groupie.

"Also, if you wouldn't mind giving me a cheat code: when Lena... did what she did, why did Catherine's memory wash over Vincent/the Other at the same time? Catherine said on the Plains it was time for him to remember; but didn't that hurt Vincent, overall, more than help? Or was it a self-protective measure he did separate from Catherine? That dynamic still needs to be made clearer to me (ohhh, noooooooo, more reading. Whatever will I do??)"

Catherine gave him that memory as a comfort, so at least one thing about the cage and the cave wasn't so horrific. But the memory itself was by way of Buster, who already had it because he was the one in that cave with Catherine when they begat Jacob, not Vincent (see the second season-ending trilogy). Buster held that memory, and Catherine gifted Vincent with it. I don't think it hurt him at all, I think it helped. It gave him the proof he needed that he could love her the way he'd always wanted to but never thought was possible for him. It was, in a way, the ultimate confirmation of his humanity.

I should probably tell you that Nan had AWTN 4 outlined and was beginning to write it. But why it was never completed is partially my fault. I sent her two 4th season fics I'd written and had tucked away and she decided to do another edition of Phoenix (the 4th season anthology zine she edited and contributed to) so she could publish them, and set Part 4 aside. And then she got caught up in the Buffyverse and started writing fanfic for that. Sadly, she died in 2006 and never finished the AWTN saga. But I have a pretty good idea where she was headed. She planted lots of seeds for the next edition.

Next?

[browneyesandhair]

Hey! It's ya girl! August Edition

I got no chill and a large obsession with a lot of things. So this year, I'm tracking it! Okay, so this year, is the year of recs! (you may have seen some of my posts, but I also have an extensive queue, so maybe not (check out the #recs on my page)). Very late as I was on vacation, still we persist.

Anyways, I've created a collection for this year overall and then also for each month! Let's check out August's stats -

Works read (&finished): 93

Fandoms (top 8):

Harry Potter: 53

The Vampire Diaries: 11

Avatar: 6

Percy Jackson: 4

Teen Wolf: 4

Bridgerton: 4

Merlin: 3

DC: 2

The rest didn't make the first drop down section of AO3, so oh well! Let's check in on relationships (top 8):

Harmony: 10

Klaroline: 10

Dramione: 9

Tomione: 9

Drarry: 5

Jily: 5

Polin: 4

Percabeth: 4

There were 5 fics that were reread / added to my recs list this month:

Bridgerton:

Plenty Far To Fall by useyourtelescope

Summary:

When financial troubles mean third-son Colin Bridgerton must cease his yearly travels and find employment instead, he has difficulty finding something suitable. Until he learns of a unique position being offered by the notorious gossip columnist Lady Whistledown.

DC:

Banshee In A Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee)

Summary:

Tim is five years old when he drowns in his parents' pool. He dies quietly, waiting for parents who love him, but will never be there, to realise that something is wrong. They never show up, and he sinks into oblivion. When he wakes up and claws his way out of the water, the sun has set, and the lights of his house are on. He is cold and wet and his lungs burn. But most of all, Tim is alone. (If you die and no-one is there to see it, were you ever alive in the first place?)

Avatar:

Returned for a Better Try (to Make a Better Time) by atypicalhypocrite

Summary:

The Fire Lord’s blast is sharp and thorough. Still on his knees before his father, a thirteen year old dies instantly. Another Zuko, once teacher to the avatar and a Fire Lord himself, jolts into being in his place, and deals with the consequences. Timeline preservation nothing, he’s going to be a better Fire Lord this time, and start sooner.

Pride comes before by KingLilith

Summary:

Zuko spins in his bed, and somehow keeps spinning until his feet hit the floor. There is a sudden dizziness and heavy feeling blanketing him, like the tail-end of a heavy cold, and he feels a strip of fabric fall off his shoulders. It feels strangely like an Agni Kai shawl, he thinks disoriented as he tries to get his bearings again. In which an older Zuko is transported to the first Agni Kai he ever fought.

Harry Potter:

House Proud by astolat

Summary:

His house liked Draco Malfoy more than him.

Alright, that's all folks (mostly), for fun, here are the top 8 additional tags from the stories that I read in August:

Alternate Universe: 17

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence: 16

Fluff: 10

Post-War: 8

Explicit Sexual Content: 8

Smut: 7

Romance: 5

Angst: 5

And, that's all folks (for real this time)!